


For Once

by silveryogis



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: And everyone has a good time, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Smut, Zuko Tops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryogis/pseuds/silveryogis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jet talks a lot. They fuck. There's not much more to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Once

**Author's Note:**

> this is so old but i'm gonna post it anyway awww ye

“I dunno, it sounds like a stupid plan to me.”

“It wasn’t stupid, it was  _genius_.”

The thing about Jet was that he always insisted his plans were genius, even if they weren’t; Zuko usually argued that they weren’t because the fact of it was that eventually, all of these plans and anecdotes had started to sound the same. Jet loved talking, he loved talking about his days with his gang, and there was nothing he loved more, it seemed, than to talk Zuko’s ear off at length about these things, even if Zuko was repeatedly pretty unresponsive. Zuko did like listening to the other boy talk though; there was something about his voice that just pulled him in, something about the way he formed such clever, articulate sentences, even if the subject was boring. And it was. It was pretty boring.

Zuko didn’t really care, though.

The two boys laid on the sleeping mat, fingers twisting in hair, drowsy and mostly content. Jet was telling him a story about the time he and his gang had made off with thirty pounds of food from a Fire Nation camp, and Zuko was making all the right listening noises; but mostly he was just watching him, watching the way his jaw moved when he spoke, the way his skin stretched over those corded muscles in his back when he shifted, even the way his fingers moved against Zuko’s chest. 

“They nearly got the Duke, too,” he said, with the air of fondness, as if he were recalling something as simple as climbing trees, and not doing so for the necessity of escaping the Fire Nation. “But they didn’t. They never did catch any of us.”

Zuko smiled at that, although he wasn’t quite sure why he did.  _He_  was Fire Nation, after all, even if Jet didn’t know it. Even if Jet was suspicious for a time, it had stopped. Suddenly, somehow, all the accusations had stopped.

It stopped right about the same time Jet kissed him, too.

Zuko let out a sigh, and ran a hand over Jet’s shoulder. It surprised him, still, how warm Jet’s skin was. One of Zuko’s fingers traced a line over the muscle, finding the ridges of the scars there, scars cut from steel, no doubt. Jet told him again and again that he was proud of those scars, and that they were his fault anyway, that he was stupid for not being careful.

Zuko thought that sounded just about right.

“They must have hated you for that,” Zuko offered once Jet was finished. The boy rolled a little, and adjusted so he was nose to nose with him, his eyes lazy. 

“I’m sure they did,” he said, sounding proud. “I’m sure as hell they did.”

And because Jet couldn’t sit without filling silence, and because Zuko  _knew_  that, he kissed him. He pulled Jet’s bottom lip into his mouth, pushed hands up into his hair, and kissed him slowly. Jet gave him a muffled noise of approval and moved into him, his body reacting to the contact. A tongue teased at Zuko’s teeth, but Zuko was still sucking on Jet’s lip, and he didn’t want to stop just yet, so he bit, once. 

Jet made that little noise again, and curled his body closer. Heat, Zuko could feel the heat pooling off his own skin and from the boy he’s kissing, but heat was never his enemy. Fire was never his enemy, and it was never Jet’s, either.

Not that Jet realized it.

“Come on,” Jet murmured into his mouth, licking deep. His hands moved against Zuko more urgently, indicating that he wanted more than just kisses. “You’ve got more in you than that.”

“Shut up,” Zuko countered, curling his fingers in Jet’s messy hair, deepening their contact. “Just…for once.”

With a push, Jet maneuvered their bodies so Zuko was on his back and Jet was straddled over his hips. Not once did Jet take his mouth off him. If Zuko wasn’t so focused on the way Jet’s hips felt locked against his, he would have been impressed. But the thing about Jet was that he was oftentimes very distracting; whether he was kissing him or just talking, sitting across from him and looking at him with those lazy eyes, rolling that stalk of grass around his tongue. 

Jet rolled his hips, and Zuko grunted into his throat, shoved his tongue deep into the boy’s mouth, and spread his hands over Jet’s shoulders. 

“Spirits, you feel good,” Jet murmured to him, firm hands pressed to either side of his face. 

“Spirits, you never shut up.”

“Do you really want me to?” Jet released the kiss and nipped at his nose with his teeth, hips gliding, their cocks rubbing together. Just that alone was enough to send Zuko through the roof, but he stayed focused with near aggressive intent. Not once in his life would Zuko had thought that something like that could feel so good, so  _maddeningly_ good, but it did. And as Jet reached a hand further down, teased fingers around his abs and his hipbones, Zuko bucked. 

“No,” he admitted, “no, I don’t.”

“Good,” Jet said, with a hand pressed to the bulge in his pants. Zuko whined. Embarrassingly, he whined. How, he wondered, how was Jet even able to pull sounds like that from him? How was he able to get under his skin so quickly, how was he able to pull him apart so quickly, like he barely had to put any effort at all into analyzing him piece by piece?

Zuko squirmed underneath him, and realized he’d let Jet have the upper hand for far too long.

“Wait,” he panted as Jet ground against him with increased speed, feeling like he would come right then if Jet didn’t stop grinding and biting his lip and  _looking at him_ like that, “hold on.”

Jet sat back, and the muscles in his stomach rippled as he did. Zuko swallowed, and Jet gave him that lazy smirk, the one he always gave during times like this. “Hold on what?”

A hand pushed against his erection again, and Zuko’s eyes focused hazily on the obvious bulge in  _Jet’s_ pants, the one he didn’t think he could ignore any longer. Shifting their weight, Zuko pined Jet to the mattress, kissed his mouth, his neck, his chest, his shoulder, everywhere he can think, because fuck this boy tasted  _good_ , and he didn’t even care that he was a boy, not anymore. He liked that he was a boy, he  _loved_ that he was a boy, because girls never felt quite like this. 

Zuko broke away from sucking at his throat, and looked at him.

Jet was panting. He was flushed and panting and Zuko had never seen him like that before, and it nearly drove him mad. “Lee,” Jet groaned, grabbing at the fabric of his pants, “Lee,  _fuck me_.”

Zuko stared. For all that they’d been together, it had always been the other way around. Jet was the one who did the fucking, and Zuko was the one making noises into the bed. Breath hitching in his chest, Zuko descended on him, plunging his tongue back into that panting mouth. He needed to know what those heaving breaths  _tasted_ like.

“You sound impatient,” Zuko said against him, shoving a hand down into his pants. “Aren’t you always telling me to be patient?”

Something in the back of his mind told him that Jet liked having the breath sucked out of him. Zuko’s hand closed around his cock, and Jet groaned and rolled with the movement. “Lee,” Jet moaned, “ _Lee.”_ That name tumbled from his lips, the  _wrong_ name, and Zuko only let it fuel his aggression. He would have Jet heaving, he  _would._

“Do you really want that?” he bit into Jet’s ear, the boy’s panting so close to his own ear, he felt that close to coming again. “Me to…”

“Yes, spirits yes,” Jet groaned, hips thrusting desperately into Zuko’s hand. “Fuck.”

Zuko kissed him again, and finally rid Jet of his pants. Jet fumbles with Zuko’s, and when both boys are shed completely of clothes, they descend on each other again, bodies twisting, skin flush with skin.

When Zuko asked if Jet was ready, Jet told him of course he was fucking ready, to just do it and  _fuck him already_. When Zuko spent the time getting the boy ready, Jet just whined, and when Zuko finally pushed himself in, Jet gave him one, hoarse, shout.

Never in Zuko’s life had anything felt like this.

“Spirits,” he mumbled into Jet’s neck, hands pressed to his hips to keep him steady. “ _Fuck.”_

Jet didn’t say anything, just groaned, and Zuko drew back slowly, only to push back in. He went slowly, because he didn’t want to hurt him, but the need to go faster was quickly building. Instead, he grabbed Jet’s cock in his hand, moved a thumb over the head, pulled, and kept his face flush with Jet’s shoulder.

“You can go harder,” Jet grunted, obviously impatient.

And Zuko did.

And the result was nearly overwhelming.

Thrusting into him with increased speed, Zuko felt that heat pool around his cock, and it drove him mad. “Jet,” he panted, “fuck, you feel good.”

Jet didn’t say anything, just moaned into the sheets, fingers curling. And Zuko was there, he was right on that edge, buried in Jet’s heat and scraping teeth along his shoulder, pumping the boy’s cock and then…

He came, hard, shuddering against Jet heavily. Zuko felt that body tremble underneath him, and Jet came with a shout, a shout of  _Lee,_ that name, the wrong name.

Zuko fell bonelessly on top of him, and panted, skin slick with sweat. And Jet fell too, so they were both just panting messily on the bed. 

“Fuck,” Jet said after a while, turning his head to look at Zuko. “You’re doing that again.”

“Was it that…”

“You know what’s it’s like.” Jet rolled so they were facing, and he pushed his face into Zuko’s shoulder. He mumbled. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, me too.” Zuko rubbed a hand idly over his shoulder. “We should clean up.”

“Later,” Jet yawned. “You’re warm.”

Warm. Zuko snorted. He supposed he was. And if Jet knew the truth of it, he wouldn’t he hiding in that thing he called warmth. If Jet knew the truth of it, he’d have Zuko pinned to the wall; but it wouldn’t be with his hands, it would be with steel, and the result wouldn’t be so sweet, Zuko was sure. 

“Yeah,” Zuko muttered, letting himself kiss Jet on the top of his head, burying his nose in his hair. He smelled like sex. “You are too.”

Jet fell asleep like that, curled against his body, and Zuko could only sigh, pull a sheet over them, and lay next to him.

Most of his night was spent awake, eyes closed, thinking about the body next to him. Sometimes, Jet shook in his sleep, probably from nightmares; tonight he was still, content even, his breathing even and steady. And that was all Zuko wanted. With an arm draped around Jet’s waist, Zuko bent his head into him, even as Jet shifted in his sleep Zuko held onto him, afraid that if he let go, Jet would feel the cold and miss the heat.


End file.
